The Meaning of Faith

Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D.

I am very fond of old time radio. I listen religiously to satellite radio because one particular channel plays radio programs from the “Golden Age of Radio.”

Naturally they bring back memories of my childhood. For example, I remember the coal truck delivering coal to our apartment building. The coal was burned in huge furnaces and the heat from the burning coal was transferred to each and every apartment through radiators. You could hear the steam escaping through the pipes.

There are many such memories: during the summer the Good Humor man would ride around the neighborhoods to bring relief in the form of ice cream pops or popsicles. Following him would be the ice truck delivering ice to people with no refrigerators. While he was delivering his ice we would sneak up to the truck and chip off a piece to suck in our mouths.

There were street games such as stick ball or curb ball. Some of my friends who had roller skates would get large orange crates and nail their skates to the bottom and create scooters to ride the streets.

It was a time of dreaming and innocence. It was a time of heroes like Joe DiMaggio or Yoggi Berra or Jackie Robinson. It was a time of unmentionable courage as everyone joined together to support the war effort. Rock and Roll was born. The corner candy store was our meeting place and all was well with the world, our little corner of the world, that is.

One particular program on satellite radio that caught my attention was one called Family Theater. It was originally started by a Catholic priest to offer faith and encouragement during the bleak times of the depression and the war. Eventually it became a program for everyone to listen to.

There was one story I heard recently on that program which I think speaks to who we are and what we are capable of being and of faith.

It was a story of a man who spent 35 years on one job and was getting ready to retire. Unfortunately his wife died before they could realize their dream, the dream they saved for over the 35 years, the dream of traveling around the world.

After his wife died he decided to move into a rooming house rather than live alone. The owner of the rooming house was a woman who had a son who desperately needed an operation to fix a back problem that prevented him from walking without pain. He became attached to the boy and would read to him and bring him little treats. And he had a co-worker, a young girl, always wanted to be an artist but could not attend art school because the scholarship she needed was not available.

I think you can guess the end of the story. He took the money he and his wife had saved and paid for the boy’s operation – he put the girl through art school and even donated the balance to the town fund raising effort for a new hospital.

Yes, it’s corny. The end of the story is easy to determine even before it’s told. But as I listened tears swelled in my eyes. I knew it was mushy and sentimental, but I couldn’t help but feel the pain of all concerned. And then I understood why it filled me with such emotion.

My youth returned, my childhood memories and I remembered those days. And as I thought about them I turned my attention to today. Here we are, at this time in our lives always asking for remembrance and kindness from God; asking Him to remember who we are and help us in our attempt at daily living.

Our purpose in life is not only its fulfillment but the opportunities presented to us to make life bearable for others as well. The every day experiences should teach us to realize that we are not alone in this journey of life. There are those less fortunate, those who depend on the charity of others to survive.

How many times have we witnessed poverty and homelessness only to turn our backs and pretend that it doesn’t exist? How many times have we had the ability to extend a helping hand only to withdraw that outstretched effort because of selfishness of indifference?

Memories are mostly fun because they contain only good thoughts. Memories are designed to enhance our faith in our ability to survive. After all we did survive the past and are now seated here in the present knowing full well that we have a future because of our faith in ourselves and in God.

However, there are those who renounce faith like it is some kind of yoke, a burden. There is the story of a man driving his car too fast down a treacherous mountain pass. The car goes over the cliff, and the man barely survives by reaching out and grabbing a clump of bushes growing from the side of the mountain wall.

Dangling in space, the man pleads with God. “Please help me.” God calls out to the man. “You want my help?” “Yes,” says the man, “Anything,” “Anything.” “I’ll help you on one condition” says the voice of God. Again the man repeats, “Anything!” “All right,” says God. “Trust me and let go.” The man hears the message, thinks about it for a minute. And then shouts: “Is there anybody out there who can help me?”

Yes, there is someone out there to help us and be with us and guide us and care for us. All it takes is a little faith and remembrance of those days gone by and the faith in those yet to be.